Midnight Rendezvous
by Catherine Chen
Summary: A very light, fluffy story. Take it for what it is. I've written it very mysteriously for a reason. PLEASE REVIEW! Much love, Cat.
1. Dim All The Lights Sweet Darling

She had been up late working as usual. Making her way to her dormitory, her body felt heavy and ached with various pains caused by sitting for too long in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the library. She crawled into bed, too tired to get undressed. Her eyes drifted shut.

Suddenly, she felt a hand gently cup her breast through her clothes as a heavy weight settled over her legs. Looking over her shoulder, her scream caught in her throat. "Shit," she said, recognizing the dark haired boy beside her on the bed. "Blaise, what in the hell is wrong with you?"

He merely raised an eyebrow at her in inquiry.

She huffed exasperatedly. "I thought you were a burglar or a rapist or a serial killer. What are you doing her?"

"One of the more logical things you didn't mention, muggle."

She waited impatiently for whatever harebrained reason he might have for waking her up so unceremoniously.

"I am your seducer," he murmured before his lips came down on hers, worshipfully caressing her mouth as though he had all the time in the world to memorize the taste and feel of her.

She didn't think it was a very logical reason for him to be in her bedroom at such an ungodly hour but the rational part of her brain was quickly being overtaken by a haze of lust.

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What happens next with Blaise and Hermione? Nothing if you don't review. It'll just be a random little drabble.


	2. I Want to be Your Woman

This was what he had been searching for. _Merlin, she felt incredible pressed against him. _Her body had almost instantaneously molded itself to his while her arms gripped his shoulders tightly and her thighs cradled him. He groaned as she pushed up against him in an attempt to get closer to him. Usually he was the epitome of casual and suave but her eager experience swamped his senses and fed the swirling vortex of his lust which threatened to consume him. _She tasted so sweet._ The essence of her lips was the gentle rain on a summer's day, crisp, red apples in the fall, and sinfully rich dark chocolate. Who would have guessed Hermione Granger would taste this intoxicating?

_Hot._ She felt so hot. Heat pooled in her belly. _Merlin, she was going to die from it. But it felt so…good._Unlike the persecuted witches of the past she would be happy to expire from the flames licking up her sides if it meant she would get to experience what she thought Blaise was planning. The hungry look in his eyes thrilled her, made her feel beautiful, desirable. Something suddenly clicked in place in her brain. Surely if he wanted her as he had claimed she should be able to stimulate him as well, make him feel as he made her feel? Her lips curved against his as he continued to slowly caress her mouth. She pushed at his shoulder until he sat back.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice roughened and his breathing harsh.

Hermione merely smiled a little feline smile and sat up partially, shrugging off her cloak and letting it fall on the floor.

His eyes gleamed but realizing her intentions he waited, having no desire to stop her.

She removed her tie and wrapped it around his neck.

He tossed back his head to let the offensive Gryffindor colors fall to the floor as Hermione laughed.

"Was that really necessary?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered adamantly. "Firstly, I am a Slytherin after all. Secondly, it was worth it to hear you laugh. You have a beautiful laugh, _mia adorata_."

A pleasant glow seemed to spread through her body at his words. "Palaverer," she accused teasingly. She then lowered her eyes and stared at him seductively through her eyelashes as her hands went to the buttons of her shirt.

His eyes darkened as she slowly revealed her beautiful, creamy skin to him.

Under his avid gaze, she finished undoing the buttons and her shirt joined her cloak on the floor.

He looked at her reverently almost afraid he would mar her incredible perfection if he were to touch her.

She had no reservations about the matter and her bra quickly joined the other articles of clothing.

His mouth opened and closed noiselessly. "I…Hermione…hell."

Her smile widened as she slowly trailed her fingers up his chest. "I thought you were supposed to be doing the seducing."

He pushed her back against the pillows, his lips finding her neck, eliciting mewls of pleasure from her as she writhed against him.

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That's all for now. I hope you enjoyed it. PLEASE REVIEW!! Much love, Cat.


	3. Let Yourself Go Freely

He tightened his hold on her as he tilted her chin up by placing little kisses on the side of her jaw. "How am I doing so far?"

She mumbled something incomprehensible as he began making concentric circles that moved inward, ever closer to the ripe buds cresting her delicately rounded breasts.

He smiled against her ear. "I'm sorry, what was that?" he whispered, his voice reverberating through her as his caresses caused a strange trembling sensation to overtake her body.

"Bl-la-aise," she choked out haltingly.

"Yes, _tesoro,_" he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Y-y-you."

"Mmh?" he questioned as he bent his dark head to take one of her nipples into his mouth.

She immediately arched up against him, her hands clenching around his skull. "Blaise!"

He lifted his head and kissed her lightly. "You haven't answered my question, Hermione," he murmured against her lips.

She still lacked the capacity to respond, but a moan escaped her lips in protest as he left the bed. After clearing her throat, she finally found her voice. "What's the matter?"

"I'm feeling rather overdressed," he said as he began to remove his own garments.

The confident Hermione of just a few moments ago melted away as he slowly revealed the toned, lightly tanned skin of his chest to her. She gulped audibly. What had she been thinking? This sort of behavior wasn't like her at all. Why she and Ron had never… The closest she had gotten was with Viktor and that hadn't really been very far. Oh, but he was gorgeous.

Some of what she was thinking must have shown on her face for he walked over to her in the middle of removing his belt to place a gentle kiss on her lips. "Are you sure about this?"

He was leaving the decision to her. She could have no regrets about this in the morning, couldn't blame the whole thing on him. It was obvious. She had to say no. There was no question about it. Anything else would be reckless, insane, moronic, immodest, reprehensible…

"Yes."

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I know it was short but I hope you like it. PLEASE REVIEW like you've been doing, which I'm very grateful for. Much love, Cat.


	4. Love Just Don't Come Easy

Hmn...I don't know. I wrote the "Just a Dance" readers an M-rated chapter and all they did was abandon me and stop leaving reviews. But you aren't like that are you? Well, just to be sure, I think I'll hold off on that M-rated chapter for a little while, k?

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She covered his hand and halted it as it trailed down her stomach. "But not tonight."

He froze. "What are you talking about, Hermione? I'm afraid you'll have to clarify your desires because at the moment I feel like all you're doing is contradicting yourself."

She sighed a little and tilted her head to the side. "Blaise, I've come to see a side of you that I gather you don't show many people and I can't deny that I'm attracted to you, but did you honestly think that I would just fall into your bed because you went for a 'direct approach'?"

He rolled off of her. "Technically, it's your bed."

Seeing the frustration in his eyes she took pity on him and gently kissed his cheek. "I didn't say I would never be ready to fall into your bed. I'd just prefer if the coercion were a bit more prolonged and possibly coupled with a bit of affection."

Blaise arched one eyebrow, softening the arrogant, sculpted lines of his face with a slight smile. "So you want a proper courtship."

"It would be nice," she replied, walking her fingers up and down the lean muscles in his arms.

"Very well," he acquiesced, leaning over to kiss her softly. He sat up and was about to swing his legs over the side of the bed and gather his clothes when Hermione placed her hand gently on his back to stop him. Blaise turned to face her, his eyes questioning.

"You don't have to go," she said in a soft voice, a rosy blush stealing across her cheeks.

He smiled and lay back against the bed, gathering her into his arms and holding her close as his warmth and the scent of her hair lulled them respectively to sleep.

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Yes, it is very short. I know. It's still an update.

PLEASE REVIEW!!!

Much love, Cat.


	5. No, It Seldom Does

I'm so sorry. I've ignored you for a horrendously long amount of time, partially because at some point or another I took you off the schedule on my profile, which I actually do use when writing updates. Now where were we? Ah, yes…

PLEASE REVIEW!!! Much love, Cat

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Hermione could feel his gaze on her as she took a bite of toast and signaled with a small smile that she appreciated the rose she had found on her plate when she arrived in the Great Hall. They had woken up together and he had given her a soft kiss and told her she looked beautiful in the soft light of morning before grabbing his clothes and rushing back to him room before anyone missed him.

He nodded in acknowledgement of her thanks, hiding the gesture by lifting his cup of coffee at the same time. For months their relationship had progressed in this way, fueled by the excitement of hidden glances, secret meetings, and hurried kisses. They found ways to meet with each other every so often so they could simply talk and spend time together, inventing excuses to fob off their friends and acquaintances that wouldn't arouse too much suspicion.

"Are you quite sure you don't know who the rose is from?" questioned Ginny, certain that Hermione had been hiding something for a while now but unable to guess just what it was.

Hermione shook her head. "I haven't the slightest idea. Your guess is as good as mine. It is rather lovely and it doesn't look like it's poisonous. I think it would be safe to keep it."

"Well, the de-hexing charm you tried should have worked and if anything bad were going to happen, it probably would have already," noted Harry.

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"How do I look?" questioned Hermione as she smoothed her hands down the sides of her robes and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Perfect," he murmured.

"Blaise, the last time you said that I walked into potions looking like I had been caught in a hurricane," she teased.

"More sensual than unkempt," he argued.

"Well," she responded, giving up and clipping back her hair, "I'd prefer it if there were no discernible change in my appearance from the time I slip out to meet you and the time I return. We don't want anyone asking too many questions."

"No, we couldn't have that," his voice light, but a hardened look entering his eyes.

"Blaise...you know I don't enjoy things being this way," she said softly, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

He came to stand behind her. "I know, cara mia, but I can't stop wishing that things were not this way..."

They stood there for a while, his chin resting lightly on her shoulder, her hand cradling his head, his arms around her as she leaned back against him.


	6. Tonight It's All the Way

Started writing this in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep. In the dark. Yeah… I'm taking a different tone for this chapter so I hope you like it. PLEASE REVIEW!!! Much love, Cat.

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A slim, unremarkable young woman descended from the train and after hooking together the top few clasps of her stylishly simple black coat began weaving her way through the crowd. One would not take a second look unless perhaps drawn by the light hitting the glossy strands pulled back into a tight bun or the warm, rich color of her eyes. Her easy pace suggested she was not in a great hurry to arrive at her destination but her motions possessed briskness, a purposefulness that she had never quite lost that seemed at odds with her slow speed. She carried with her a decently-sized bag that did not appear to contain a precious commodity. However, a careful observer might take note of the fact that the woman never allowed the bag to be jostled and kept the contents, whatever the might be, protected from the hustle and bustle of the passersby rushing to claim their seats on the train.

Across the street from the train station a distinguished-looking young man sat, lifting a cup of espresso to his lips. Strikingly handsome, he appeared to be in no rush to finish the rest of the breakfast that lay before him though a careful observer might notice his gaze often wandering to the other side of the street. In his impeccably tailored suit he had the appearance of a wealthy businessman but the sensuality of his mouth and eyes would have seemed out of place in an office and his posture and the knowing look in his eyes spoke of sort of confidence only instilled by good breeding. He rose gracefully and tossed a few bills on the table, picking up the suitcase beside him and exiting the restaurant, hailing a cab and lowering himself just as gracefully into the back of it.

That same careful observer would have to have been very attentive to both of these people to realize that the man had gotten into his cab exactly ten minutes after the woman exited from the station in a crowd of other passengers. No observer could be attentive enough to keep track of her small rental car and his cab to realize that they were headed to the same destination, a small town so far from the center of the city that it began to border the quaint farms and villages of the countryside that possessed a bookstore, a florist, a bakery, other various specialty shops, and a pretty church with a garden of lovingly tended roses.


	7. We've Found the Perfect Love

Finally, _finally_ I wrap up this story. Hate to say it, but if you wanted to get it higher on the schedule of stories to work on you could have tried reviewing. 99.9% of the time that works. Anyway, this is the end. The loose ends are tied up. The mystery is revealed. We finally have some M rated content. You're welcome. :) Thanks for sticking with this. I hope you enjoyed it.

As always, PLEASE REVIEW!

Much love, Cat

xxxxx

Chapter dedicated to my betas…

Bards of Bedlam

Viennacantabile

the Harechan

Calmer of the Storm

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The dress had been simple. She'd unzipped the black garment bag to reveal the lightweight cream gown that she'd managed to slip on by herself with relative ease. The lace was antique. The deceptively simple style of cap sleeves with a cinched waist and a skirt that fell straight down after draping over her hips had been sewn by a master seamstress. She was unused to such finery, having spent the better part of the last decade avoiding traps and monstrous creatures and trying not to get killed in one way or another. Blaise had had to do quite a lot of convincing before she agreed to step into the hugely expensive couturier's shop and still she'd settled on the simplest style she could. Yet for all the skill and effort that had contributed to its creation, she had felt like what she was; a young girl in her wedding dress looking up at the man she loved.

His suit had been impeccable, of course. Like all his suits it was custom-made and fit him ridiculously well, refusing to wrinkle when he moved. His shoes had gleamed with the shine that could only be achieved by wastefully polishing them with champagne. But when she looked into his eyes, there had been a man staring back at her with more love than she had ever expected to see reflected back at her.

The church was small, but the sprinkling of flowers had helped it seem more elegantly restrained than quaint. They had an audience of five if one counted the priest but she wouldn't have been any happier if they'd had an audience of hundreds. Those who needed to be there were there. Besides, it wasn't as if they could go shouting about their love from the highest rooftop. Things had gotten better, but there were still those with prejudices about Muggle-born witches, about who had fought on which side in the final battle against You-Know-Who.

She leaned her head back against his chest. He tightened his arms around her waist and kissed the side of her head. "Everything all right?" he asked softly. Somewhere in his mind he still couldn't quite believe how well things had gone, that he'd been able to escape to his country with the girl of his dreams and get married without anyone being the wiser. Of course, the secret would get out quickly once they got back. But she was already his now. And no one would take her away from him.

"Just thinking," she replied.

He smiled. "Why am I not surprised? Have I ever told you that you do far too much of that?"

"I know, I know. You want me to relax," she said exasperatedly, having heard the speech many times before. "That _is_ what I've been doing for the last four hours," she retorted.

"Four hours?" he repeated, angling for an explanation.

"It wasn't real yet when we said the vows or signed the papers or exchanged the rings," she explained slowly as though she was just coming to realize it herself. "It was real when we…when we…"

"Consummated the marriage?" he provided helpfully.

"…and I knew no one could ever take you from me," she finished.

Her answer pleased him so much that he turned her around in his arms and kissed her soundly.

"Blaise?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Were you…are you disappointed that your parents weren't at the wedding?" she asked quietly.

"No," he said firmly. "Given the response I received when I first mentioned you, I'm glad we decided not to inform them. It's for the best. There's no telling what they would have done." He hesitated uncharacteristically for a moment, "Are you disappointed that all your friends didn't come?"

"No," she answered. "The people who were there were the ones who needed to be there. Besides, I've always wanted a small wedding. I wouldn't change anything about today."

He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "I meant what I said in my vows. I'll be faithful. I'll make you happy."

She smiled. "You've been doing a bang up job so far."

He raised an eyebrow in query. "Was that a colloquialism I just heard from the smartest witch of our generation?"

"Why, so it was," she replied wonderingly. "You've wrought quite a change in me over the last few years."

"Excellent," he replied smoothly. "My plan is a success."

"What plan?" she asked.

"My plan to get you in my bed."

"I hate to break it to you but you achieved that goal quite a while ago," she said dryly.

"Semantics," he said dismissively.

"Actually no, that would be if…"

He covered her mouth with his lips and kissed her into silence. "Yes, but now you're _mine_."

The way he said it made her chest tighten and brought a stinging feeling to the back of her eyes. "Damn you. I am not crying on my wedding day. I am _not_."

He grinned. "But dearest, it isn't your wedding day."

"Is there something you haven't told me? The documents are all in order, right? Don't tell me that something went wrong after all the trouble we put into-"

He laughed. "It's our wedding night, Hermione. That's all I meant."

"Why, so it is," she murmured, pulling his head down to hers. His mouth instantly became possessive. He kissed her the way he had from the first, as if he could delve past her defenses and discover all her secrets, as though she'd surrender them all up to him if he kept his lips on hers long enough. "And to think I once thought you a cold, arrogant, elitist," she murmured.

Used to her teasing, he played into his side of their dynamic. "And to think I once thought you a stuffy, little, bookworm know-it-all." As he scattered kisses down her neck, he considered how much of himself he'd given to her, how much she'd given in return. This was love. This was what marriage should be. She'd taught him that this incredible level of vulnerability could be worthwhile, that things could be different when one or both of the participants wasn't looking to take advantage of the other. She'd seen in him the man he could be, not who he had been_…the boy caught between wanting to please uninterested parents and live up to his lineage, and the cynical soul wanting to reject his upbringing and all it had produced and stood for, yet afraid to. _

She held his gaze as he cupped her breast and took the areola between his lips until it grew swollen and sensitive. She remembered him coaxing her to open her eyes and surrender herself, and not just her body, to him. True intimacy was this connection she had with him, this connection that she'd never had with another person. She'd never been willing to let go of her need to prove herself worthy of love and admiration. Over the years he'd slowly convinced her that she was, that he loved her because of her intelligence and loyalty and beauty and determination and conviction but that he loved her without her constantly trying to remind him of those things. She didn't need to be the best possible witch or student or friend or warrior with him. She was just Hermione. And she was loved.

He placed a hand over the curve of her stomach and thought about the child he hoped would soon be growing inside there. He didn't feel any of the fear and anxiety men were supposed to feel. He didn't feel a sense of duty or the pressing need to carry on the family bloodlines. All he could think was _She's going to be an incredible mother_ and_ I'm going to have a family with her. I'm going to have a life with her_.

She gasped as his mouth wandered lower. Her hands clenched in the bed sheets as her body tensed, her muscles clenching and releasing in violent spasms in response to the subtle pressure of his tongue. She grasped blindly at his shoulder, urging him on, trying to call a halt to his ministrations; she wasn't sure which as her thoughts began to stall. As the trembling sensations began shooting through her limbs, she dimly thought she should try to release her death grip on the upper muscles of his back before she left more scratches but she found herself tumbling into seized rapture before she could.

He crawled back up the bed to hold her gently as she panted and tried to catch her breath.

She placed her hand on his chest. "Thank you."

Although he sensed a deeper meaning to her words he didn't question her. He simply kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer. He was still unfulfilled but for some reason he couldn't explain to himself he needed to hold her and rest in the quiet stillness of the moment. "Do you know," he murmured, "I think you are the most beautiful woman in my acquaintance?"

"I believe that you believe it," she returned, still a little breathless.

"Oh, and why is that?" he drawled imperiously.

"Because you'd never accept anything less," she answered with a smile, remembering words he'd spoken so long ago and so often since that she barely remembered the conversation and the context. She sat up and hooked a leg over his so she sat astride him.

"And don't you forget it," he ordered playfully as he pulled her head down to his for a long, languid kiss. Without breaking the kiss, he settled her on top of him, groaning slightly as she eased down to envelop his entire length.

"I love you, Blaise," she whispered into his ear as his hands skimmed the sides of her body.

"I know," he said dismissively, arching up for another kiss.

She stopped him by placing a hand on his chest. "Do you, now?"

He nuzzled his cheek against her breast. "Do you remember the first time you rejected me?

"Hmn…not really," she teased. "I suppose I say the word "no" far more often than you hear it."

He ignored her ribbing. "You told me you were the kind of girl who was only interested in boys she could grow to love."

"Mmm," she concurred. It sounded like something she would have said back then.

Her body had unconsciously begun to rock against his and he placed his hands on her hips to stop the most agreeable motion before he became too distracted to continue. "And I replied that when you grew up you would learn that the educated upper classes had long since abandoned silly things like love and romance."

"I recall you phrasing it a little differently, darling," she pointed out.

"Yes, well, I was a bit of an ass back then," he admitted reluctantly.

"I'm sorry," she said in a gratingly saccharine voice, "could you repeat that?"

"No."

She couldn't help it. She laughed. "And what did I say to that?"

"You said you'd prove there was such a thing as love and that when I read about your marriage in the paper someday I'd know for you'd never marry a man if you didn't love him." He was smug again for though he'd lost the argument, he'd won by getting a lot more in the end.

"Aha…and what did you say to that?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"You ask too many questions…you know that?" he said evasively.

"Hmn…so I've been told," she quipped. This time when he kissed her he took her bottom lip between his teeth. Her inner muscles clenched in response. Stirred, she began a rhythmic rise and descent, her breath hitching a little each time he fitted within her fully.

As they gazed at each other through increasingly arousal-fogged eyes, they both felt privileged knowing they were the only ones to ever see the other this way. He drank in the sight of her unbound caramel curls bouncing in loose abandon, her brown eyes stained dark with passion. No one could see her like this and ever think her bookish and prim, though he wasn't about to give anyone the opportunity to try. A light mist of sweat coated his skin and his breathing was choppy and harsh. No one would equate the coldly decisive businessman and the well-mannered aristocrat with the man who lay beneath her, impatiently urging her hips into a faster motion. Stimulated by their lively sparring of wits and always present attraction they quickly reached the pinnacle, hearts racing and limbs on the verge of snapping with tension.

It was a while before they could speak. Blaise recovered first. "Mrs. Zabini?"

"Yes, Mr. Zabini?" she prompted with an admirably level voice considering the fact that he was still buried within her.

He cupped her face with one hand. "This has definitely been our most successful midnight rendezvous."

"I couldn't agree more," she said with a grin.

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THE END

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I stubbornly refuse to write variations on the same M-rated scenes so once again this is something a little different for me. I do hope you've enjoyed it. Let me know.

PLEASE REVIEW!

Much love, Cat


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